


Harry Potter & the Mystery of the Lost Continent

by Frickles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tamil Mythology
Genre: Adventure, Ancient Mythology, F/M, IndianaJones!Harry, Mystery, Romance, Tamil mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:35:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frickles/pseuds/Frickles
Summary: Thousands of years ago, a corrupt and decadent empire vanished forever, buried beneath the ocean depths. Several millennia later, the Man-Who-Conquered is drafted by an offshoot group of Tamil wizards to do the impossible. The only thing standing in his way? Just eight immortal wizards, an entire magical nation, and one smart-mouthed Ravenclaw witch. Piece of cake.If you want to read the story with italics, emboldened words, and proper formatting, check it out on FFN. Ao3 doesn't handle the conversion well.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Padma Patil/Harry Potter, Parvati Patil/Roger Davies
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**June 14, 2007**

“-which lead to the start of the seventh goblin rebellion, starting in what year…” the professor surveyed the classroom, eventually settling on a dirty-blonde haired student. “Miss Bishop?”

The girl squeaked momentarily, sitting up straight in her seat. “Um, 1591?”

He paused, allowing the suspense to build for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she answered, the hesitance in her voice a clear indicator she  _ wasn’t _ . 

“Correct! Take 10 points to Ravenclaw!” A restrained ringing sounded, and he raised his voice to speak over the din of his students pushing back their seats and gathering their things. “Don’t forget, your final exam will be Friday, so any last questions will need to come during my office hours that begin in one hour!”

The female students in his Sixth Year class sighed almost in unison and the last stragglers cleared out. Organizing his own lecture notes, a quiet but distinctly adult voice interrupted his internal checklist of whether he’d hit all of the exam topics. 

“Professor Potter?”

Giving a distracted glance towards the door, Harry did a double-take as a mature woman, appearing to be in her mid- to late-forties, stepped into his classroom. She was dressed in a sari made of heavy silk, the thread shimmering in the torchlight, bedecked in fantastically elaborate jewels. “Can I help you?”

“I dearly hope so,” she replied. “I am Arasi Aashni.”

He shouldered his messenger bag, walking over and extending his hand, the outstretched limb awkwardly hanging in mid-air as the woman bowed deeply. “Er, that’s not necessary.”

“I would disagree. The winds telltale of the Man-Who-Conquered, your legend spanning the globe even to the distant refuge of my people. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“Shall we adjourn to my office?”

She nodded and practically floated along beside him as they made the short walk through the corridor. He gestured for her to take a seat, then he perched on the edge of his desk rather than sit down behind it. “So, Miss Aashni, what brings you to Hogwarts?”

“You do, of course. I must ask, is it true that you slew the Urnfield Wights of Tirol, and recovered the Brixon Blade?”

Harry raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “You’re remarkably well informed. Yes, that was two years ago.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, crossing her legs at the ankle. “Did you know that the secrets of magical steelworking used in its construction came from my ancestors? The Tamil people’s metallurgical skill is second only to that of goblins. What became of the blade?”

Offering a grunt of annoyance, Harry’s eyes narrowed. “The ICW locked it away in some vault. It was a priceless magical artefact, thousands of years old. It really belonged in a place of learning, as an example of the way that ancient wizards melded sorcery and steel.”

Aashni nodded approvingly. “I quite agree. Magical knowledge should be shared freely, not stockpiled and stored. You are everything that I had hoped you would be.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you still haven’t told me the purpose of your visit, and I do have teaching responsibilities to get back to…”

“I came seeking your help. The last hopes of my family, of my people, rest in your hands.”

Harry didn’t react to her plaintive plea. Instead, he removed his glasses and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess - there’s a Dark Lord rising in your land, and no one is willing to stand up to him.”

“It’s not-”

“Miss Aashni, it’s been nearly ten years since I defeated the self-styled Lord Voldemort, and I’ve yet to make it six months in a row without someone approaching me to put down some evil-doer or another. I’ll tell you what I tell them - I am a professor, not a warrior.”

“You misunderstand,” she quickly said, interrupting before his rehearsed speech could gather steam. “It is not your skills in battle that drew me across the world, but your proven ability to access the sites of ancient civilizations.”

“Oh?” She had his full attention now. “Where did you say you are from, again?”

“Tamil Nadu. I am the descendent of an ancient dynasty, one that ran afoul of evil wizards more than two thousand years ago.”

“A dynasty?”

She nodded. “In Tamil, ‘arasi’ would translate to ‘queen’. I have come to beg your assistance in salvaging my family’s legacy. Please! You are the only one who can do so!”

“I don’t understand. Why me? What happened to your family?”

“It is a tale from long ago, forbidden to speak of. A legend passed down, whispered from generation to generation, of my family’s hidden lineage. The true heirs of the Pandyan dynasty.”

Harry’s expression didn’t change. “I still don’t see how this involves me.”

“You know of Atlantis? The great sunken city?”

He nodded. It was the ‘holy grail’ of ancient exploration. “Of course. But it is only a myth.”

“The story I came to tell you may sound similar. What do you know of Kumari Kandam?”

“Nothing, although…” he worked through the name silently for a moment or two, “It’s Sanskrit?”

“Very good, Professor,” she murmured approvingly. “Kumari Kandam is a legendary continent, just south of India. The origin of the Tamil people. As a history instructor, I’m sure you can tell me of the earliest human civilizations?”

Harry let out a deep breath. He was growing irritated with this roundabout explanation. “The first ‘great’ civilizations emerged around 3000 BC.”

“And Atlantis? Excuse me, the myth of Atlantis?”

“Plato claimed it to have been founded around 9000 BC.”

She leaned back in her seat, regarding him seriously. “And what if I were to tell you that the empire of Kumari Kandam dates back nearly three thousand years  _ prior _ to that?”

“I’d say that you should have brought me a drink; would have made it easier to swallow this hogwash.”

Aashni tilted her head in confusion at his euphemism, then continued on in spite of his scepticism. “The great empire of Kumari Kandam spanned an entire continent. Seven regions, each with seven territories. I trust you are familiar with the arithmantic significance of such an arrangement?”

“I am,” he drawled, intrigued despite himself.

“It was a powerful empire, but as the millennia passed, became insular and antiquated, unable to guard against the threats from the north. Eight powerful - and very evil - wizards envied the wealth and influence of my people. Using dark magic, they initiated a catastrophe, one which sank the entire continent to the ocean floor.”

Hopping off his desk, Harry turned and sank into his seat, propping his feet up. “That’s a nice story. I’ll have to remember it next time I’m around a campfire.”

She didn’t respond to his sarcasm. “I would not expect an accomplished scholar to take my word at face value. Here,” she said, reaching into her sari and withdrawing a package, placing it on his desk and sliding it towards him, “see for yourself.”

Wordlessly, he dropped his feet back to the floor, smoothly drawing his wand and unshrinking the package, upending it on his desk. A glossy stone pendant in a perfectly symmetrical triangular shape fell out, along with several sheets of muggle paper and a scroll of parchment. Harry cast diagnostic charms on each item before reaching first for the muggle report, quickly scanning its contents.

“Carbon dating… unknown errors in testing methods, results consistently returning age greater than 10,000 years…” he set the paper down, directing a suddenly intent look at the woman across from him. “They assumed a mistake, because-”

“-Because it is impossible that an artefact of that quality could be so old.”

Picking up the scroll, Harry saw it was a written report from a master of enchanting, an expert he was familiar with. The magical signatures contained in this artefact were deeply woven in its construction, similar to but not consistent with goblin manufacturing. Its purpose remained unknown, according to the report.

Finally, he crouched, eye level with the pendant. He waved his wand, whispering detection spells in a variety of languages. It glowed briefly, but nothing more. 

“Where did you get this?”

“I told you, my family are the descendants of the lost continent’s rulers. It has been passed down for thousands of years, protected at great cost to preserve our dynasty. Recently, certain texts have been unearthed, that point to a possible entrance to my people’s buried kingdom-”

“If what you say is true,” Harry interrupted, “then why have the muggles not detected this landmass?”

“The ill magic that the Great Eight used to sink Kumari Kandam cloaked it from view of both magical and muggle senses.”

“Impossible!” Harry scoffed. “The amount of magical energy necessary to mask a landmass of that size is beyond comprehension.”

“‘There are secrets that remain unearthed, as buried figuratively by doubt and disbelief, as they are by stone and dirt.’ Didn’t you say that in your last research publication, on early Longshan runic carvings?”

He grinned, dragging his eyes off of the pendant, a sparkle of curiosity shining clearly in their emerald depths. “You really did do your homework on me.”

“I can, of course, compensate you in whatever way you desire. Once we unlock Kumari Kandam, my family will possess riches, artefacts, and knowledge beyond your wildest dreams. But I need help. I need you, Harry Potter.”

“Say I agree to this; where do we even start?”

Aashni stood, gathering the forms, parchment, and pendant. As she concealed them in her robes, she pulled out another scroll, setting it carefully in the centre of his desk. “This is an international portkey. A quite illegal one, at that. If you decide to once more wear the mantle of a saviour, tap it with your wand in an unwarded location and speak the activation phrase - ‘long live the queen’. It is effective for the next ten days; after that, I will assume you have decided against assisting my people.”

“I have kind of a bad history with taking portkeys to unknown locations.”

“Then allow me to provide you some assurance. It will bring you to my family’s estate in Tamil Nadu, a region in southern India. From there, we will begin our journey to unlock the lost continent and restore my family to our true place on the Pandyan throne.”

With one more deep bow, Arasi Aashni departed, leaving him deep in thought, staring silently at the scroll perched on the centre of his desk. 

LINE BREAK

He walked the blushing, stuttering Seventh Year to the open door of his office, assuring her that she was adequately prepared for her coming examination. It had been equal parts embarrassing and flattering, when he’d first taken on the position of teaching History of Magic at Hogwarts, just how many students decided to pursue NEWTs in the subject. When Binns had been here, the number of students continuing past OWLs rarely exceeded three or four per year; Harry, however, had full classes consistently through his tenure. 

It had been a great surprise, even to Headmistress McGonagall, when Harry had come seeking this position. He’d barely lasted three weeks as an auror; with the Death Eaters dead, in prison, or scattered to the Continent in disgrace, the DMLE had largely used him as a walking and talking recruitment poster. 

The expectations of everyone around him following his victory over Voldemort had been  _ suffocating _ . Locking himself in Grimmauld Place had been only partially successful, but unfortunately, Ron and Hermione had escorted an endless parade of well-wishers and favour-seekers desperate for ‘just a few minutes’ of his time for this or that issue. 

‘ _ You could do so much!’ _ Hermione had said. ‘ _ Why  _ not _ use your influence to change things for the better?’ _

He suspected that Ron understood his reticence; after all, Harry had basically been little more than a pawn for most of his life. He wasn’t eager to repeat that, no matter how important his would-be puppet masters thought their causes were. Instead, he’d sent Bill Weasley a letter, asking to tag along the next time the Curse-Breaker’s work took him out of Britain. 

Bill had been happy to have the Man-Who-Conquered along, and while Harry found the work of dismantling wards and traps interesting, he was intensely fascinated by the mundane discoveries they found in the Scandinavian tomb. For someone who’d had his personal history stolen from him shortly after birth, discovering unknown pieces of how magic was employed in the ancient world was deeply satisfying to Harry Potter.

Greasing a few palms with gold from his considerable inheritance, Harry managed to secure spots on a number of expeditions over the next three years. With his magical power and reputation, he was never refused. At first, his name was added to the list of authors on the published work to draw attention to the findings that his various mentors and trainers discovered; gradually, though, Harry began to mount his own expeditions and earn merits all of his own.

Thus, having quickly risen to the most  _ visible _ \- if not the most  _ prominent _ \- archaeologist in the magical world, Harry had been a shoo-in for the teaching position at Hogwarts. He liked teaching, especially a subject that almost no one had taken seriously when he was a student. Plus, it gave him something to do while his scouts sought out new sites for his annual summer expeditions.

“Plumpton Pass,” he said, pausing as the gargoyle slid to the side. Taking the stairs at a leisurely pace, he raised his hand to knock just as the door opened on its own.

“Professor Potter,” McGonagall greeted. “I trust that your afternoon meeting went well?”

He flopped down into the seat across from her. “I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t already know about that. Yes, it was quite informative.”

“You won’t leave until after final exams, will you?”

“Of course not. I’ll just pull an all-nighter and get my grades in by Saturday morning.”

The Headmistress frowned. “It is customary for the faculty to attend graduation.”

“I’ll pay Ron and Fred to set up a fireworks show. Nobody’ll notice I’m not there.”

“Very well. Where will your travels take you this summer?”

Harry stood, having completed his duty of informing his boss of his absence. “Somewhere far away. If everything works out, you’ll hear all about it before the start of next term.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do be careful?”

“Always, Minnie,” he said with a wink, spinning on his heel and heading back down the stairs. 

There was so much to do, he thought, mentally compiling a list of things he needed to pack. He wondered what sort of team Aashni had put together; while he’d prefer using people that he’d worked with previously, she seemed the skittish sort, unlikely to take kindly to him bringing others along. ‘ _ Not to mention the questionable nature of a job starting with an illegal portkey’ _ he mused with a wry grin, a smile that only widened when he saw who was lounging in his quarters.

“Parvati Patil, now this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Wrong Patil,” came the cool response. The serious look on her face really should have been a dead giveaway, he realized. 

“Hello Padma, it’s been ages.”

“Yes, my work’s taken me out of the country for the last few years. How have you been, Potter?”

“Great, actually. Better than ever!”

A hint of a smile cracked her impassive expression. “Considering your past experiences, that’s not saying all that much.”

“I suppose not,” he agreed, deliberately running his eyes over her robed figure. “Is there a reason, beyond the obvious of course, that you’re in my personal quarters?”

If he’d needed more proof that this was the Ravenclaw, not the Gryffindor, the complete lack of reaction to his flirtation would have provided it. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not one of your lovesick students drawing hearts on their essays.”

He took her rejection in stride. “That’s too bad. Well, off you go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got a lot of things to do, don’t really have time to catch up.”

“But you  _ do _ have time to come on to me?” she sputtered indignantly. “You’re unbelievable.”

He pulled off his robes, throwing them into a nearby basket that the house elves collected nightly, then began to unbutton his shirt. “I wasn’t kidding about being busy.”

“A woman came to see you today.”

“Lots of women come to see me, for obvious reasons,” he shot back, his shirt landing on top of his robes. 

“Can you- ugh! I liked you better when you weren’t such an arrogant arse.”

“You mean when I had a Dark Lord, the  _ Prophet _ , and the Ministry all out for my blood? Forgive me for not being overwhelmed, terrified, and in  _ way _ over my head any longer.”

“This woman, what did she tell you?”

“It was just a job offer, Padma, what’s the deal?” He dug out a t-shirt, pausing for a moment to glance between the garment and his guest. “Last chance to soak it all in.”

“I prefer men with more muscles and fewer scars. Put it on.”

“Ouch!” he pretended to be wounded, but couldn’t muster much feeling behind it. 

“What were the details of this job offer?”

“None of your business.”

She scowled, taking a step closer. “This is serious, Potter. I need to know what she told you.”

‘ _ Wherever she was, it treated her well’ _ Harry thought, taking advantage of her increased proximity to more closely examine the way she filled out her robes. “How  _ much _ do you need to know?”

“Is that what it’s going to take? Because I can lay back and think of England for the fifteen seconds you’d need, if so.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. Padma hadn’t been so…  _ fiery _ during their years at Hogwarts. “Seriously, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s a wanted criminal, part of a group of Tamil extremists that have been delving into dangerous magicks.”

“Are you an auror?”

She met his eyes unflinchingly. “I can’t tell you that.”

“So the DoM, then. What a waste, to hide a face like yours behind those cowls!”

“Stop with the jokes, Harry!”

“All she did was offer me a job. I have exams to give, so obviously I’m not available at the moment. She made her pitch, then she left.”

“Is she staying in Britain?”

“I don’t think so.”

Padma sighed in seeming relief. “Okay. I’m glad to hear that.”

“What’s this about, really?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Where have you really been for the last few years?”

Tucking a strand of ebony hair behind her ear, she stood on her tiptoes to examine his trademark scar. “It’s almost completely gone.”

She smelled nice.  _ Really _ nice. “Can we rewind this conversation and have you break out the restraints and whips? I might not have told you everything.”

Patting his cheek, Padma smiled and headed for the door. “It was nice catching up with you.”

“Thanks for dropping by.”

The door half-open, she paused. “Oh, and is there a reason you thought that Parvati would be waiting in your quarters?”

“Wishful thinking?”

“It had  _ better _ be just that.” The door slammed shut behind her.

Harry chuckled, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the portkey that Aashni had left him. Padma’s warnings weren’t all that surprising, given the way that his earlier guest had warned him about the cover-up surrounding the lost continent. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to step on some toes to get the job done. 

Just three more days. Three more days and he’d be off to solve a mystery thousands of years in the making. 


	2. Chapter I - Home Sweet Home

**Chapter I - Home Sweet Home**

**June 17, 2007**

“Uncle Harry!”

“Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?”

Teddy, per his usual when he saw his godfather, morphed his features to match those of Harry. “I’m bored. Can’t I come stay with you at Hogwarts next year?”

“Sorry, two more years to go. How’s your Gran?”

“She’s fine,” Andromeda Tonks answered, standing just inside the door. “I’m a bit surprised to see you; the term isn’t over until Wednesday.”

“Unfortunately, I’m being called away, so I thought I’d stop by today and say hello.”

“You look tired. Are you sleeping well?”

“Just a late night marking exams, I’m fine. We’ll be back for dinner!”

“Be careful Teddy, and stay close to Harry.”

Scooping up his godson, Harry apparated to the Hogwarts gates, listening to Teddy excitedly chatter about all of the things he’d done since his last visit. They popped in to say hello to Hagrid, then continued their walk to the quidditch pitch, where Harry and Teddy flew for a few hours on a pair of Cleansweep 7s. 

Not for the first time, he wished that Teddy were just a little older, big enough to accompany Harry on some of his expeditions. His relationship with his godson was one of the best parts of his life, and combining that with his endless curiosity to discover and share the secrets of magic’s past would be just about all he could ask for.

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really, Gran had me eat right before you came over,” Teddy replied, standing to the side while Harry locked up the brooms in the equipment shed. “Do you really have to leave again?”

He kneeled down, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I do. It’s really important, and I’m one of the only people that can help.”

“I miss you when you’re gone.”

“I miss you, too. Once you get to Hogwarts, promise me that you’ll study really hard, so that you can come with me when you’re grown up, okay?”

“I will!” The boy promised.

Harry smiled and stood back up. “So what do you want to do next?”

“Can we- can I go play with Freddie?” Fred Weasley, Ron’s eldest son, was only a year and a half younger than Teddy. “Gran doesn’t get along so well with his mum and dad.”

With a chuckle, Harry tried to imagine Ron Weasley having tea with the Black-raised Andromeda. “Sure, let’s go.” Snapping off a Patronus message to his old schoolmate, Harry and Teddy walked back to gates, apparating once they’d reached the ward boundaries. 

Ron Weasley and his wife lived in a small home, on the border of a small forest in Cheshire. The ‘Elm Cabin’, as he’d named it, had originally been only four rooms - two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting room. Now, five years later, it more closely resembled the Burrow, with an extra four bedrooms tacked on in a lackadaisical design on top of the original first floor. 

“Hey mate!” A tiny clone of what Ron had  _ surely _ looked like at just about eight years old came running out to greet them. “Cool hair!”

Teddy, who’d shifted his hair into a wild green mess the moment they’d arrived, preened at his friend’s praise. “Can we go play?”

“Sure. Fred, I’m trusting you to stay inside the wards, though, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Mum and Dad got real cross last time I tried. We’ll be good!”

Harry watched them run off, somehow doubting that the mischievous little boy was being honest. “Hey mate,” a familiar voice called, his greeting identical to that of his son. “Come on in and let’s catch up!”

Stepping inside the cool and cosy cabin, Harry first greeted the heavily pregnant Mrs Weasley. “Hey Lav,” he said, offering a peck on her cheek. “You look radiant.”

“Thank you, Harry, but you don’t need to flatter me. I feel like a beached whale!” Eight months pregnant, she was a bit larger than when he’d last seen her, but some thoughts are better left unexpressed, so he simply winked and turned to embrace Ron.

“Good to see you. You trying to outdo your parents? Gotta space those tykes out a bit more!” Ron and Lavender had, besides Fred and the one waiting to be born, three other children between the ages of one and five.

“Happy accidents, every one,” his friend replied with a wink. “So, skiving off work, or is this a special occasion?”

“The term actually ended for me today, so I wanted to catch up with Teddy before I head out.”

Ron whistled. “Wow, you leave earlier and earlier every year. Where to this time?”

“India. I’ll be back before the start of the fall term, though.”

“India?” Lavender asked. “What are you doing there? Surely they’ve got experts of their own to manage any digs.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s just a job I was hired for. My curiosity was piqued, so I signed on. How’re things at the WWW?”

The youngest Weasley son had matured quite a bit from the boy that Hermione used to claim lacked emotional depth, recognizing Harry’s shift in topic for what it was. “Pretty great. Business is good, the routine is nice and comforting, and the gold is useful to keep all these hungry mouths fed.”

“Maybe you should use some of that gold to invest in contraceptive potions, eh Lav?”

“Shut it, Potter!”

They all shared a laugh, and the conversation moved towards the fireworks show that Harry wanted to hire Weasley’s Wizarding Wheeze’s congratulate the graduating class at Hogwarts. Ron drew up a quick billing statement for Harry to sign, and they spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on everything happening in their lives. 

It was nice, catching up with his oldest mate. In a lot of ways, Ron lived the life that Harry had always thought he wanted; safe, calm, filled with family and friends. It was practically the perfect picture of what the Mirror of Erised had shown him in his First Year. 

Somewhere along the way, though, that picture-perfect idyllism had been soured, corrupted by the traumas of war, the grief of loss, and yes, even the pressures of celebrity. Harry in his brief career as an auror with the lovely Ginny Weasley on his arm, found himself  _ bored _ . A future of Ministry Balls, of paperwork and promotions, of dirty diapers and a grouchy wife and stability seemed endlessly dull. 

There was still time for a family; Teddy proved that at least some part of him still longed to replace the family that Harry had ripped away by violence. But that desire had been subsumed by the rush of  _ discovery _ , of being the only living person on the planet to find something out, to learn secrets that had been kept for thousands of years. It was the same drive that had sent men sailing over the horizon in centuries past; the desire to  _ know _ what was out there, and damn the risks or consequences. 

Eventually, the afternoon gave way to evening, and Harry collected Teddy and bade farewell to his friends. After a quiet dinner with the Tonkses, he departed once more to do some reading on his destination, pack his bag, and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, he’d be halfway around the world.

LINE BREAK

“Darling! It’s so good to see you!”

“Jeez, Mum, it’s only been two weeks since I last visited. You’re acting like I’ve been away for years!”

“Parvati, don’t tease your mother,” Praveen Patil was a serious man, a stark contrast to his daughter and wife’s exuberant personalities. “We’ve asked you over for dinner four times in those two weeks.”

“Well I’m here now, aren’t I? What’s the- oh. You’re back.” 

“Hello, Parvati,” Padma said, walking out of the dining room to embrace her twin. “I’ve missed you!”

“Not enough to write, or even tell me goodbye, though. What the bloody hell was so important that you had to run off like that? You’ve been gone for four years!”

“Your sister had important work to do in our homeland-” their mother, Manju, began.

“I’ve listened to you say that over and over. I want to hear it from her.”

“I- I was offered an opportunity to study under a great and powerful wizard. It’s important work, but unfortunately, quite demanding. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit, and, well- you know how hard it is to send post from Kerala.”

“You missed my wedding.”

Padma nodded, brushing away an errant tear. “I know. I’m so sorry. Did mother and father give you my gift?”

“I’m wearing it now.” Parvati pulled back her hair and opened her robes, revealing a flawless rose coral locket. “Thank you.”

“And how is Roger? I admit, I somewhat expected to come back and hear news of your children.”

“We’re waiting a bit longer. Tutshill’s planning to make a run at the league championship, and with him being the chaser’s coach, he has to put in long hours. If he’d known you were in-country, though, I’m sure he would have joined me tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’m kind of glad it’s just us. Send my love when you get home, though?”

“Of course.” 

And just like that, all was forgiven. It had been so many years since they’d been in each other’s presence that Padma had nearly forgotten just how much her sister complimented her personality. They were like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly - Parvati was excitable, Padma restrained; Parvati was extroverted, while Padma was a textbook introvert. Life just seemed a bit easier when her sister was around. 

Dinner was exquisite, Manju having pulled out all the stops for their family’s long-awaited reunion. Padma, who’d been back in Britain for nearly two weeks, had already spoken about the last five years at length with her parents, but they asked questions about Kerala and her work there for Parvati’s benefit. 

Eventually, after dessert had finished, the twins retired to the parlour to catch up and raid their father’s liquor cabinet like old times. 

“So, this wizard you’re training with - anything going on there?”

“I hope you don’t mean what I think you’re implying; he’s older than Dumbledore was!”

Parvati giggled into her brandy. “Dumbledore was a pretty smart guy, isn’t that a big turn-on for you Ravenclaws?”

“You’d better hope not, or Roger must be quite unsatisfied,” she shot back, making her sister gasp in feigned outrage. “But no, there’s nothing like that. I haven’t been with anyone since I left Britain.”

“As I recall, you and Stephen Cornfoot were pretty hot and heavy back in the day. Want me to send him an owl for you?”

“Merlin, no! The past is best left exactly where it is - in the past. Besides, I hardly have room in my life for a relationship.” The two stared into their glasses quietly for a long moment before Padma spoke again. “I’ll have to go back at the end of the summer.”

She expected an outburst, but Parvati just nodded. “I kind of figured. Are you at least happy over there? Is this the life you want to live?”

“I am… satisfied. I’m learning amazing things, things I couldn’t begin to explain. And this won’t last forever, Parv. I’ll start assuming greater duties as my training ends, and eventually I won’t need to stay in Kerala full-time.”

“That makes me feel a little better. So what was it that brought you back now, after so long? I can’t imagine it was just a social visit, given how random the timing is.”

Padma refilled her snifter, giving the bottle’s label a quick glance. ‘ _ Father always did have exquisite tastes when it came to brandy and cigars’ _ “Well… I was sent to follow someone, to make certain that they weren’t able to succeed at what they came to Britain to do.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. When sh- when the person I was following failed in their mission, they left Britain. I was given permission to spend a little bit of time with you and the rest of the family.”

“Oh. It’s not- you’re not involved in anything dangerous, are you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Oh gods, you’re like a  _ total _ badass now, aren’t you?” Parvati asked, the brandy bringing out more of her excitable personality. “Are you like the second coming of Merlin or something? The next Harry Potter?”

They each giggled, but since Parvati had brought him up… “Hey, speaking of - did anything ever, uh, you know,  _ happen _ -” Padma made a crude gesture with her hands, “between you and him?”

“Me and Harry?” Parvati set her glass down on the coffee table, leaning forward and batting her eyes. “You mean like running across him, soaked in sweat from quidditch, and offering to lick him clean?”

Padma rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness. I figured nothing happened, but I had to be sure.”

“Why the interest? You looking for a fling with the Man-Who-Conquered? He’s single, you know.”

“I’d assumed that, given-” Padma thought over what she was about to say, ultimately deciding it was fairly innocuous. “Given that when I spoke with him he was constantly hitting on me.”

“When did you see Harry? Did you two, you know…” Parvati repeated Padma’s crude gesture from before and then broke down into laughter. 

“No! Definitely not. But when he walked into his room, he mistook me for you and I thought- I don’t know, that maybe something had happened between you two in the past.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. What were you doing in his  _ room _ ?”

“Parvati, really. I needed to speak with him in private, it’s nothing scandalous.” 

“Okay.”

It was probably the brandy that was forcing her to think about these things, and definitely the brandy that made her say it. “Since I’m here for a little longer, though, I have to admit I’ve considered sending him an owl. He was fanciable when we were younger, but now that he’s this big-time archaeologist, I don’t know, he just-”

“Sorry Pad, you’re too late,” her sister cut in.

“What? But I thought you said he’s single?”

“Oh, he is,” Parvati confirmed, leaning back in the lounge seat. “But I heard from Lavender last week, that he stopped by the week before and told Ron he was heading out of the country for the summer. Sorry, girl, you missed your chance!”

Padma’s knuckles went white, squeezing the brandy glass so tightly her hands began to throb. “Where did he go?”

“Oh my gosh, relax! Look at you, you were  _ really _ going to shag him, weren’t you?!”

“Parvati.” 

“I don’t know if I should tell you…”

“ _ Parvati! _ ”

“Fine, but don’t blame me for feeling frustrated when you hear this. You know how you’re in Britain for the rest of the summer? Well, Lav said that Harry told Ron that  _ he _ was going to  _ India _ for the rest of the summer. Talk about just terrible timing, right?”

“No- he said… he said he was unavailable-”

“Shot you down, did he? Well, don’t feel bad, he was always a bit of a tosser if you ask- Pad? Padma?”

She shot out of her seat, swaying a little from the brandy, but hurried to the fireplace. “Parvati, what is Weasley’s Floo address?”

“‘The Elm Cabin’, why?”

Padma tossed a pinch of powder into the flames, kneeled down and waited. Eventually, the sleepy face of her sister’s best friend appeared. “Parvati? Why are you calling so late?”

“It’s Padma. Are you sure Harry said he was going to India?”

“Huh? Padma- you’re back?!”

“Lavender! Just answer the question!”

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

“When? What day was this?”

“Uh, it was a Saturday - the weekend before Hogwarts’ graduation. He hired Ron and his brother to do a fireworks display since he was going to miss the ceremony-” 

Padma sat back, shutting off the connection as she did. ‘ _ Gods DAMMIT! That stupid- idiotic- arrogant ARSE!’ _

When Aashni had left without him, she thought that they were in the clear. But apparently he’d just been waiting, just  _ lied _ to her and followed after her like the idiotic Gryffindor he was. 

“I have to go.”

“What?” Parvati had been watching the entire scene with wide eyes. “Where?”

“Back to India. I have to stop Harry Potter.”


	3. Hot Hot Heat

**Quick disclaimer/note here: had a great review from bdwilliams that mentioned the very rough history between some of the ethnic groups involved in this fic. I knew of the Sri Lankan civil war prior to starting this story, but I went ahead and read the full wikipedia article on it to gain more insight. What a truly terrible saga, lasting decades. Long story short, all sides did unimaginably horrible things to each other. So while it receives a passing reference in this chapter, I will largely try and avoid that topic. During the time that this fic takes place (2007) a ceasefire was underway, although the war would start up again and last a few more years. I very strenuously hope that nothing in my fic upsets or offends anyone affected by that long and painful tragedy. I ask that everyone please be respectful of that desire in the reviews. All I want is to write a fun piece of fanfiction about a really cool legend. -Frickles**

**Chapter II - Hot Hot Heat**

**July 9, 2007**

"You seem uncomfortable, Professor. Is there anything you require?"

Harry grimaced, the expression causing several droplets of sweat to slide down his chin and drip onto the book he was reading. "No, not unless you've got a glacier around I can cool off in."

Aashni smiled in sympathy. "The weather has been unseasonably dry since we arrived, though the rains will resume shortly. I'm sure that will provide you with some relief." Loudly barking out a command in Tamil, two maids appeared and began to fan him. "I assume, based on the chill in Scotland when I visited, that you are not so accustomed to humidity."

"I grew up in London, which is a bit soggy, but nothing like this. My apologies, Your Highness, I don't mean to complain. Your hospitality has been wonderful."

Aashni nodded, not bothering with false modesty. The estate that his portkey had dropped him into was not massive but certainly made up for its limited size with royal treatment. Given her status, Harry chuckled a bit at that stray thought. For being what amounted to merely a large house, there was a seemingly endless number of servants constantly attending to their needs.

"How have you found the research we've accumulated?"

"It's fascinating reading, although some of the arithmancy here is a bit beyond me."

"Is that important?"

"It might be. I'd like to consult an expert before we take any action, if only to be sure. Additionally, I'll need someone that is more fluent in Sanskrit; I know only the basics, and some of these texts employ vocabulary that is likely not taught outside of your country."

"Very well, that can be arranged. I have taken the liberty of purchasing a vessel to take us to sea in two weeks. I will ensure that your meetings take place before then."

"To sea? For what purpose?"

"I'd have thought you would have seen for yourself," Aashni replied, leaning over the table liberally coated with scrolls, tomes, and texts, eventually pulling out a battered piece of parchment. "Here - the magics used to hide Kumari Kandam were a perversion of defensive magic. It stands to purpose that if we are to pierce the veil that obscures my homeland, we will not do so from the shore."

The work she was referring to was hardly what he would term 'academic'; it was more of a propaganda pamphlet than a research treatise. "That, uh, work seemed a little one-sided."

Aashni wore a ghost of a smile. "The Tamil people have, since the fall of the lost continent, been oppressed for a long period of time. A certain defensiveness is perfectly understandable, is it not?"

And therein lay the real issue of this trip. Harry had brushed off the questionable legality of this venture; hell, many of his own expeditions had to skirt the edge of legal rules and regulations, so he didn't bat an eye at the idea that there were powerful interests invested in keeping the secrets of the lost continent buried beneath the waves. He'd been a rule-breaking miscreant long before he was a respected professor, after all; concern for the rules had never weighed heavily on his conscience.

Still, his previous expeditions had been investigating ancient peoples, long since vanished from the face of the globe. Here, he'd stepped into a foreign land, fraught with cultural and ethnic tensions. Harry had stopped his muggle education after the fifth grade; similarly, the only muggle current events he'd consumed in the last decade had been either Sirius Black or Voldemort related. Padma had warned him that these were 'extremists', but he hadn't realized that reference was more related to mundane, muggle aspects of the world. He was flying blind, in the truest sense of the term.

He tried to push those thoughts aside. He was here, and the pendant that Aashni had shown him was evidence enough that there _was_ something out there worth pursuing further. He'd started journeys based on less. "If you have a boat, would it be possible for me to take a dive down to the ocean floor, where Kandam Kumari once existed?"

"You may certainly venture out there, but I fear that there is no time to procure the proper muggle equipment to allow you to delve so far beneath the sea. I'm sure you know that the pressure would collapse any Bubble-Head Charm long before you reached the ocean floor."

"Of course," Harry answered. "Nonetheless…"

"I'll have one of my servants escort you to the yacht this afternoon."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

* * *

"Khanda Desphande will see you now."

Padma tried and failed to erase the scowl she wore as she marched into the commander's office of the provincial magical law enforcement in Chennai. "Ah, Miss Patel, you have become quite a familiar face recently."

"It is _Patil_ , and I will continue to bother you until you actually _do_ something!"

"Please, take a seat," he ordered rather than requested. Deshpande was an imposing man, standing six and a half feet tall and nearly as broad as Crabbe and Goyle put together. He wore the tea-coloured robes typical of khandas - the Indian name for their aurors - and had a weathered face dominated by a curled mustachio. "Now, as your visits are beginning to eat away my attention toward more important duties, I will tell you what has been done regarding the information you provided."

She nodded, sitting straight and adopting a regal expression. The slights he'd aimed at her mission had not gone unnoticed, and Padma had long since exhausted her patience after being forced to deal with this man daily since her hurried return to India.

"I have had two men watching Aashni's compound at all hours. There has been no sign of illegal activity. She seems merely to be doing her best to entertain the foreigner, even going so far as to purchase a yacht. While she is the last of a long line of Tamil separatists, beyond squandering the remnants of her family's wealth to purchase antiquities and impress celebrities, I have no indication that there is anything going on that concerns the provincial Ministry."

Padma levelled a contemptuous glare at the khanda. "Then search her compound. You and your men must not be very busy if your only clues of criminal activity are found by what you are able to view from public spaces."

"I wouldn't expect an _Englishwoman_ to understand the sensitivities that this situation presents."

"Then enlighten me."

"Aashni's influence is waning; her family has been cashing in on their heritage for generations, and the locals in Tamil Nadu have tired of their presumptuousness. Beyond a mere handful of servants and a dwindling vault, she commands little respect. However, if we were to break down the gates and storm her home, we may very well reignite tensions that have only recently cooled to a simmer."

"You're telling me that you are willing to risk catastrophe over domestic politics? Is there an election coming for your position or something?"

"Miss Patel," Deshpande ground out, deliberately mispronouncing her name once again, "Kumari Kandam is a fantasy, a children's fable. An overwhelming majority of Tamils disbelieve the veracity of that legend. If Aashni wishes to capitalize on the story to entertain young foreigners, she is welcome to do so."

A moment of silence passed. "Very well, you appear to have forced my hand," Padma said, rising from her seat, lifting the sleeve of her robes to reveal a marking etched into her flesh. "Do you recognize this?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "If you really expect me to believe-"

Padma pressed three fingers against the circular mark, a halo of glowing energy beginning to emanate from her body. "Behold the will of the Saints!" she pronounced, in a voice that was no longer solely her own, speaking in a chorus of others joining from the ether.

"By the gods… you truly are-"

"The Voice of the Siddhar." The glow ceased, and Padma drooped, the exertion of channelling such force leaving her winded. "And soon, I will act as their Hand, as well."

Deshpande, his face pale, swallowed heavily. "Wh- what would you have us do?"

"Apprehend Aashni when she next departs the compound. Bring her to me, and I will assume responsibility for her."

"And the Englishman?"

"He does not understand the repercussions of his quest. Allow him to leave unmolested."

"Lady Patil," the khanda spoke hesitantly, all the prior disrespect gone from his tone, "what are we to do if he interferes with our attempt to arrest Aashni?"

Padma closed her eyes, the memories flowing over her of years long past. The small boy, swimming in massively oversized clothes stepping up to the Sorting Hat; the fearlessness he displayed facing a nesting Hungarian Horntail, as well as the terrified look as he awkwardly danced with her sister; that same boy, but older and more hardened, instructing his classmates on how to defend themselves and prepare for the coming war; and Harry Potter, the man, wand outstretched in victory after slaying the Dark Lord and saving an entire nation.

"Any who would stand in the way of halting the coming cataclysm shall receive no mercy," she said quietly, trying to restrain the emotions that screamed inside her to swallow those words rather than speak them. "Such is the will of the Saints."

"It will be done, milady."

* * *

Harry peered into the ocean, as though able to see through the more than ten thousand feet of water and divine the mysteries held below. _'At least'_ , he thought to himself, _'the sea breeze lessened the humidity'_

"Does aiya wish for us to drop anchor?" The ship's captain asked, standing at attention nearby.

"Yes, this spot is fine," Harry agreed, reaching under his shirt to withdraw the mokeskin pouch that he had Hermione enchant for him ages ago. He reached in almost to his shoulder, digging around until he felt the cool wooden surface of his potions box, removing it from the pouch and setting it on the gently rocking deck of the yacht.

Gillyweed was, of course, the perfect answer to the problem of examining the ocean floor. With gills, his lungs would not be filled with air so the issue of pressure at great depths would be resolved. Removing a small clump from the large chunk he had encased in a jar, Harry replaced the box into his pouch, ordered the captain to remain anchored for the next hour, and then dove into the water, stuffing the clump of slimy weeds into his mouth and swallowing as he sank.

The transformation hadn't gotten any more comfortable than the last time he did it, although at least there wasn't a hostage waiting for him at the bottom like in Fourth Year. His gills in place, respiratory system thoroughly discombobulated, Harry began to swiftly make his way into the oceanic depths.

He hadn't expected how quickly his visibility would lessen. He'd hardly gone a thousand feet before the sunlight was a dim blur, and Harry was forced to light his wand to see anything at all. He swam for what felt like ages in total darkness, occasionally running across some terrified sea creature or other. Those encounters were much less disconcerting than the movement _outside_ his field of vision, where he could feel the ripples of displacement from things in motion in the water around him.

All in all, descending to the ocean floor was one of the more uncomfortable experiences of his life, and given what he'd gone through, _that_ was saying something. With the way that he was suspended in water, he wasn't able to 'stand' on the surface, so he made do with pushing against it with his free hand and feet. Other than a danger of clogging his artificial gills with silt, there were no discoveries to be made through tactile investigation.

Muttering a quick prayer to any higher being that happened to be listening, Harry extinguished his _lumos_ and began to cast revealing and diagnostic charms, directing his magic in as wide an arc as he was able. Nothing. No trace of any magic around him.

Relighting his wand, he began to swim along the floor, noting as he did the existence of hills and depressions. Some areas were rocky and mountainous, others were as smooth as a sand dune in a desert. Every so often, usually in intervals of fifty or so feet, he'd repeat his revealing charms, still to no avail.

' _How long have I been down here?'_ It was so disorienting, like swimming through a vacuum. It wouldn't do to have his gillyweed wear off at this depth, so Harry decided that at his next 'stop', he'd return to the surface.

Naturally, that was the place that he felt it. Faint, almost nonexistent; it was a pinprick of magical energy, so light that his diagnostic spells weren't even able to return any information. The only reason his revealing spells had discovered anything at all was because of how massively he'd been overpowering them.

' _What to do now, though?'_ No matter what, a trip to the surface was required at this point. Conjuring a massive line of rope attached to a lead weight, Harry swam directly upward, feeling the limits of his transformation's time frame just as the sunlight peeked through the murky waters. A pause just beneath the surface for thirty or so seconds, and then he popped up, gulping lungfuls of air and never loving the sight of blue skies so much as he did at that moment.

Taking great care to keep his mokeskin pouch above water - it wouldn't do to test the space-expansion enchantments with several thousand litres of ocean water, after all - Harry reached in and first withdrew more gillyweed, a smaller amount than he'd ingested before. Returning the potions cache to the pouch, bobbing on the surface of the ocean with his conjured line keeping him in place, he next reached deep inside, searching for and finally grasping the item he sought.

The moment his fingers grazed the slim, knotted wood, a rush of energy ran through his body. ' _I'll never get used to that'_ he thought with some amusement, removing the Elder Wand and closing his pouch securely above water. Quickly chewing and swallowing the disgusting plant, Harry waited for the transformation to fully take and then descended once more, following the trail he left down to the ocean floor.

The overwhelming confidence that came with using the Elder Wand was, for once, welcome, and this time, Harry hardly thought twice about swimming down into the black abyss. Glowing wand outstretched, he quickly retraced his path and floated to a rest at the site of that speck of magic. Focusing on the diagnostic charm that had failed with his holly wand, Harry _pushed_ with all his energy into casting the spell.

Nothing.

Bubbles of air rose upward from his howl of frustration. ' _Okay, focus'_ The spell he'd used was one originally developed in the 18th century by a Bavarian wizard. It stands to reason that the types of magic that this wizard intended the spell to interrogate were vastly different from magic employed thousands of years before.

Harry closed his eyes - unnecessary though it may be, given he'd not recast his _lumos_ \- and silently ran through the oldest spells he knew of. In his investigation of ancient Chinese runes, the Longshan alphabet that Aashni had referenced the day they'd met, one character roughly translated to ' _Awareness'_.

It was worth a shot. He traced the rune with his wand over the area that had pinged his revealing spell, and, sure enough, a flood of information elicited, in a language that most assuredly was not English. Harry tried to keep up, to utilize his very limited knowledge of Sanskrit to identify words and phrases that might shed light on just _what_ in Merlin's name he was 'standing on', so to speak.

There - that was muggle-repelling wards, and there was some sort of cloaking magic; further down, through a deluge of unknown information was something about consciousness; this part here that he couldn't understand, _that_ section of unidentifiable magic was soaking up a huge amount of power, and- and…

' _It couldn't be'._

Years back, during his all-too-brief sojourn in the DMLE, the Ministry had requested he assist the Department of Mysteries on a secret project restoring damaged artefacts. It turned out to have a bit of a personal aspect, given that in a roundabout way, Harry himself was responsible for ruining them in the first place - the time-turners that he and his friends had wrecked during their battle inside the DoM. He'd been selected because of - in Minister Shacklebolt's words - his overwhelming magical strength.

In the end, he hadn't quite lived up to expectations, but it _had_ provided him with the opportunity to examine the spellwork that went into fashioning the artefacts, an invaluable secret known only to perhaps two or three score individuals in the entire world. It had felt like a worthy use of his time, though he doubted that the Unspeakables felt the same way, given the lack of results from his efforts.

Time magic was an unusual thing; incredibly volatile, and largely useless beyond a very narrow scope of circumstances and environments. It's why there were no spells that altered time, only enchanted objects that could reverse the flow in one direction, and in an extremely restricted manner at that.

Yet, here, at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, in what was barely larger than a grain of sand containing magic so complex and powerful that it made the wards around Hogwarts look like something a squib had powered, was the unmistakable signature of arcane energies shifting the flow of time itself.

Just what the hell had he stumbled onto?


End file.
